Invincible
by eeniemeenie
Summary: She was beyond help- beyond repair. Armed with an eating disorder, to-die-for looks, and something of a trust problem, Dylan Marvil, former model-meets-runaway is fully prepared to take Westchester by storm. Warning: anorexia nervosa, swearing.
1. t h e prologue

**Actually, I thought of this plot when I was (re)reading Lollipop, a Harry Potter fanfic. Actually, if you like this kinda stuff [**and there's some HP-SS action in there, and I'm not talking about slash. Ewww. :)**] you should totally read it. 'course, mine isn't nearly as good as that… but anyways. **

**And I'll update who I wanna be eventually. I'm just a bit… stuck. **

**[:. **

Introducing:

_**Invincible**_

~-~-

_**in·vin·ci·ble**_

_adj._

_Incapable of being overcome or defeated; unconquerable._

"I am _fully_ aware that this is my last chance, _George_." Ted Lynch snapped into his Blackberry Curve, glowering sullenly across the perfectly-kept White Plains Park, **[A/N okay, THAT was pretty unoriginal. Whatever.] **perfectly still and silent, other than the lone figure near the back exit, sleeping restfully with her mud-caked red hair strewn about carelessly.

Doing something of a double take- it _was_ nearly eight o'clock in the evening, after all, and the figure _did_ look small- eight or nine, he'd wager- he began to slowly edge toward the girl, before he was eventually kneeling next to her, eyebrows bunched together and phone thrown meters away.

Somehow, the girl seemed to quickly awaken in seconds, brilliant green eyes blinking groggily, mouth opening twice before snapping shut again.

"Here." Ted extended a hand kindly, and, in a smooth move, getting up and helping the frail girl do the same.

"Thanks." She muttered quietly, staring at the ground, the trees, the sky- really, anywhere but the man's face.

"You're not going to… turn me in, are you? " she asked, wide emerald eyes showing glimmers of incoming tears.

There was a moment of silence- silence, except for the snapping of twigs, the steady rhythm of their feet, moving alone in the early stages of darkness.

"No." he stated after a while. "One quick question, though." Ted added quickly, as if trying his hardest to get it over with. "What's your name?"

The young girl's eyes widened for a fraction of a second- a motion so quick, that it was almost unnoticeable. Discreetly, she crossed her fingers behind her back, and said the first thing that came to mind.

"Annalise Walker." She lied. And although he didn't believe her, he simply nodded, and beckoned for her to follow him.

And, for some reason, she couldn't help but trust him. And, following the kind man, they traveled quickly towards the back exit- towards a new world, a new life, for the both of them.

[)[)[)[)

--

[)[)[)[)

Really, she supposed, being a model- especially a children's one, wasn't all that bad. She shared a small residence with numerous other girls- orphans, most of them, as the lucky ones to have parents returned to their spacious estates every night. And they were all extremely friendly, outgoing, and overall loveable people. The apartment was always bustling with activity- and although she practically never spoke, although she almost never joining in their conversations, they somehow loved her like a sister- and, truly, she felt the same way.

For a while, it was fun- a game, of sorts. Nothing more that posing for pictures, grinning widely, showing off amazing new products. For a while, she could still claim that it hadn't changed her- hadn't harmed her in any way.

After all, she couldn't claim anything of like that _now_.

She was beyond help- beyond repair.

* * *

[)[)[)[)

--

[)[)[)[)

Honestly, how were they so _skinny_? Those older girls- and males, for that matter, were perfect in every way, in her eyes. Flawless appearances, wrists like razors, and the perfect height- they were exactly that.

_Perfect. _

And her older roommates warned her not to affect her- not to travel down the road they had taken, attempting to save her, while they still had the chance.

But she paid no mind to their warnings- and quickly became jealous of these porcelain beings- and in the mirror, her thighs suddenly looked too big, her stomach stuck out far too much- everything that could go wrong in a person _was_, with her.

And she promised herself- that no matter what, when she grew up, she would be _just like them_.

And, unfortunately, that was exactly what she was.

* * *

[)[)[)[)

--

[)[)[)[)

It was simple, really. Far less damaging than the alternative. And, just like that, she slowly began to eat less and less- until she truly mirrored her idols, in a younger form.

She wasn't anorexic, she reasoned with herself. No, she thought of it as more of a diet- and, really, it had the desired results. Only she never realized it- her image of herself never changed, regardless to how it truly did.

She even failed to recognize the worried glances of her roommates. _They_ realized what was going on- realized what was to come, realized that it was beginning to take over her life, like it had to numerous others.

But, really, they quickly stopped bothering- they knew too well that it was a lost cause. And it wasn't as if they liked "Ann," as they had dubbed her, any less- it was that it wouldn't do any good. If anything, it would just tear their relationship to shreds.

And the idea of that seemed ten times worse.

* * *

[)[)[)[)

--

[)[)[)[)

"Hey! Ann!" Nick Jon**es** **[A/N yes, I am reusing him. I love him too much to pass up the opportunity, one, and two, I'm just too lazy to think of a new name.] **shouted from behind her, quickly catching up with her and shaking his shaggy chocolate brown hair out of his face, so his sparkling dark brown eyes were clearly visible.

"Happy birthday!" he exclaimed, after an awkward moment of silence, and the two turned towards each other.

"Thanks." She said with a grin, afterwards casually looking around Nick. "I see you didn't get me a present." She said in a teasing voice.

Nick smiled back. "Says who?" and, with that being said, placed his slight hands on Dylan's shoulders, slowly went in for the "kill."

* * *

[)[)[)[)

--

[)[)[)[)

"Hey, guys." "Annalise" greeted casually, leaving her worn-out flip flops on the dark doormat.

Only Alex Brown, a short-haired blonde with navy eyes, responded with a "hello-" the others were glued to the screen, and she quickly sit on the arm of the couch, listening to the perky blonde on the TV.

"…In other news, an official investigation to find out what happened to Dylan Marvil, daughter of Merri-Lee Marvil, famous host of the daily grind, has at last begun. Dylan is suspected to be long-dead," at this, a picture of a nine-year-old Dylan Marvil flashed onto the screen. "but investigators say that there still _is_ a _slight_ possibility that she survived, after all these years." At this, Jessica Morris quickly turned off the TV, and the entire room stared thoughtfully at "Annalise."

"You know, Dylan looks exactly like you did when you were younger…" an older, slightly ditzy girl spoke up.

Annalise simply bit her lip, then laughed nervously. "Coincidence, I guess." She said with a shrug.

Suddenly, she popped up, dragging herself towards her bed. "I'm beat." She explained shortly, with a long sigh.

* * *

[)[)[)[)

--

[)[)[)[)

"Visitor for you, Ms. Walker." George Lynch explained, and, with a short gesture, directed her to a small room.

Nervously, she slowly walked towards it, already pretty sure what was about to happen.

Still, nothing could prepare her for the real thing.

"Fuck." She swore under her breath, clenching her jaw. "Just… fuck."

* * *

[)[)[)[)

--

[)[)[)[)

Dylan Marvil, formerly Annalise Walker, once again let out a long sigh, nails rapping annoyingly against side of the limo, once again attempting to reach Nick.

**Dylan: You there? **

After ten minutes, she gave up, throwing the device across the car, and leaned her head against her hand.

Twenty minutes later, they had arrived- to Westchester, New York.

To her former house- a fairly large, lightly colored mansion that slightly resembled a church in its structure.

Once again, she found herself walking towards a new life- and this time, she wasn't quite sure if it would be for the better.

* * *

[)[)[)[)

--

[)[)[)[)

**Hmmm. I kinda like it, but I sorta don't.**

**What about you? :D. **

**It was six pages? Which is sorta long, by my standards? Haha. **

**And FYI, I'm not planning on updating this anytime soon. **

**And there might be some mistakes, but idc. I'm too lazy to proofread it. **

**REVIEWS MAKE ME HAPPY. **

**:)**


	2. d e f i a n c e

Here you areee, lovelies. I'm in a writey mood. And happy holidays!

* * *

D E F I A N C E

* * *

Beep. Loud. Loud beeps, hurt, go away, so very loud.

Dylan slowly opened her eyes, and, with a mighty groan, turned the bubblegum pink (pink?) alarm clock off, and suddenly, everything cleared.

The room was mostly a Tiffany-box blue and bright pink, (pink?) girly and sweet and bubbly and chipper.

It made her want to puke.

And then, everything came back.

TV. Suspicion. Police. Defeat. Return. And now she was back, in Westchester of all places, and knew she'd run away, eventually, just not now.

And where would she go?

They hated her now, they had to.

They had been practically family, but she lied and lied and cheated and manipulated and payed.

One thing, though, was for sure.

She was going to despise Westchester.

* * *

Bite, chew, gulp, wince. Deep breath, sigh, bite, chew, swallon. Butterflies- up, up, away, runrunrun to the porcelain alter.

She tried, she really had, but she was so restless, so uneasy, so unhappy, that it just wouldn't stay down.

And, besides, she was past hunger, now.

And so she gently finger-combed her fiery red trademark hair, slipped on her Dior aviators, and straightened her light green bubble skirt, paired with a simple white tank top, a black cardigan, black heels, and plenty of gold jewelry.

She was dressed to kill..

So get ready, ladies, 'cause the bitch is back.

* * *

"Welcome to BOCD!" a chipper (annoying as hell) voice nearly shrieked. "I'm Kristen Gregory, and since you're a new student and all, I was assigned to be your buddyslashguide!" the annoying girl followed her around, like a lost puppy, and Dylan sharply turned around, just as she was finishing her little speech.

"And so if you have any questions, feel free to ask!"

She stared at Dylan expectantly, grinning creepily.

"Actually…" Dylan purred dangerously. "I _do_ have a question. Are you always this annoying?"

She smirked as, in a huff, Kristy (or whatever her name was) walked away, muttering something that sounded like "not another Layne…"

* * *

"So why are we hiding behind a banister creeping New Girl, again?" Olivia Ryan whined loudly.

"Beee-cause, Uh-Livia." Layne Abeley (speak of the devil and she doth appear) rolled her eyes, and spoke slowly, as if she was talking to a two year old. "She's Merri-Lee Marvil's daughter. _And_ a former model. She's ahbv-iously a threat," with difficulty, she resisted adding a loud "duh!" to her short speech.

"It's a good thing you're pretty." Layne muttered shortly. "Oh, good, there's Alicia and Nina with our lattes. Took _them_ long enough."

* * *

"You know, I don't believe I've seen you around before." Dylan looked up from her locker to see a mildly attractive (hot) guy staring down at her, smirking slightly (that was _her_ thing!) "Name and number, please."

"Dylan Marvil, and, well, it looks like you're going to have to earn that, now aren't you?" (never mind that she still had to buy a new phone) she said, quickly collecting her books and daintily clacking off, while he simply stared, transfixed.

He, Derrick Harrington, had just been rejected.

Sort of.

It was a hunt, a game, and he kinda liked that.

* * *

Dylan Marvil was the epitome of _defiance_.


End file.
